


So Here It Is

by Slantedlight (BySlantedlight)



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2709143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BySlantedlight/pseuds/Slantedlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...Merry Christmas, everybody's having fun...</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Here It Is

_Look to the future now,_   
_It's only just begun._   
_\- Slade_

Christmas trees shone all around them, prickly and dark-needled, aglow with lights and baubles and jolly little snowmen. 

Doyle reached out, squeezed his hand, and one of the snowmen crumpled to jagged shards of plastic in his fist. They weren't solid, there was nothing more than air inside their hollow little centres.

"Ah please now, Mr Doyle..."

Doyle ignored the voice, knew that Bodie was there, dark and menacing and ready to restrain Kinsella if necessary. There was a particularly smug looking fairy at the top of the next tree, dressed smartly in red velvet and black silk. He stroked gently down her dress with one finger, then up again, raising the knap, leaving a pink stripe behind. Her hair was frothy blonde, and soft. He wound a strand around his finger, tugged, and she tumbled through te greenery into his waiting hands.

"Mr Doyle she's very expensive..."

He turned her upside down, peered up her china pale legs. No knickers. "I'm sure she is," he said out loud, saw Bodie raise an eyebrow at him. "Where's Cullen today?"

"I don't _know_... Mr Doyle, he'll be very _angry_ with me..."

"She's got alot of friends, doesn't she?" Doyle nodded at a pile of boxes in the corner.

"He might be at _Angelini's_ tonight." Kinsella rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Maybe. I can't promise."

Doyle nodded slowly, glanced at Bodie who nodded back at him, already starting to turn away.

" _Angelini's_ ," Doyle repeated. "Let's hope you're right, shall we?" He smiled, squeezed his fist around the doll's smug head, and let her cracked remains fall to the floor behind him. Beneath the glitter and shine she was hollow too.

o0o

"You know," Bodie said as they stepped back into the Christmas eve rush of people on the high street, "Something tells me that _good will to all men_ is passing you by this year, Raymond."

Doyle shot him a look, dodging around two women and a pram and glaring in their direction too. 

"'appy Christmas to you an' all!" one of them shouted back at him, and it was all Doyle could do to keep walking. He took a breath and let it out slowly, then dug a hand into his jacket pocket for the car keys.

They were whipped from between his fingers even as he reached for the car door. "Bodie!"

"You, my son, are not driving in _that_ condition!"

"So 'elp me, Bodie..."

"I want to get there in one piece, thank you very much, not end up like that angel!"

That was bloody rich coming from CI5's own Niki Lauda, but Doyle gave in. He supposed it wouldn't do much good to wrap them around a lamp post, and it wasn't Bodie's fault he wanted to hit things tonight. Not completely. "That was no angel..." he tried. Maybe if he gave Bodie a chance he'd lighten the mood enough for both of them.

"...that was my date - boom, boom!" Bodie supplied obligingly. " _The Two Ronnies'_ ll be on their knees begging you for that material..."

"Yeah, yeah." Doyle scowled, settled into the passenger seat and ran a hand through his hair. So much for that. _Bodie and his date_... He had no idea which one she'd be - he was fairly sure Michelle had given Bodie the push last time he'd been called on standby, although Karen had sworn she'd seen them together at the weekend. He'd mentioned someone called Jennifer too. Knowing Bodie it'd be both of them, one after the other.

Bloody Bodie.

"C'mon, mate," he grumbled, " _Angelini's_ 'll be closed by the time you get us there!"

"Not going to _Angelini's_."

"Eh?"

"We're not going to _Angelini's_!"

Doyle turned to stare at Bodie's profile, alternately shadowed then lit dull orange by the streetlights as they _whished_ down the road through the slush and muck. He was concentrating on the cars and buses and miserable shoppers who were hurrying, kamikaze-like, to get home at the dog-end of a long day's graft, intent on nothing more than putting their feet up in front of _Dad's Army_ or _Morecambe and Wise_ or whatever drollery was on the box that night, and stuffing their faces with ham and pease pudding and ginger wine.

Alright for some.

"Where we going then?"

Bodie swerved the car suddenly, so that they skidded to a halt in front of a phone box, naturally Christmas-lit against a deep green hedge, all warm yellow glow from the inside, and bright red paint on the outside. 

Probably stank of piss.

"Bodie... Argh!" He punched the door in frustration, at his smug idiot of a partner, at the muck and grime of the night, at the depths to which Cullen had sunk, dragging them out when everyone else was setting up for a snug evening at home with their loved ones.

Not that he had any loved ones.

Fucking _Bodie_.

He watched Bodie's long stride around the car, the way his shoulders tensed to pull open the door, and then Bodie lit up inside the phone box, laughing into the receiver, catching Doyle's baleful eye on him and turning away, eyes alight too.

If he was in there chatting up Melissa or Beverley or some other fucking _deb_...

He hoped the phone box stank of piss. 

Bodie was all bonhomie and gleeful looks when he slid back into the driver's seat as well, and Doyle wished he'd thought to hotwire the car and make a decent escape of it while the bugger was chatting up his bird. 

"That's it Raymond, that's it - Smithy and Michaels are going to pick up Cullen, and we are home free for the evening!"

"You what? How'd you convince Pat to do that? What about the Cow?"

"Owes me one from that time on Dover Street," Bodie grinned at him, squeezing back onto the busy road between a Mini and a 2CV. He revved the engine happily as they sat in traffic, leaned forward to switch on the radio. 

"But..."

 _Slade_ roared out at them.

"Bo- _die_!"

"Alright, keep your hair on - I can do without Noddy Holder myself... Could be worse mind, could be the _Human_ fucking _League_..."

The car inched forwards.

"At this rate we might as well walk there. You'd better wake me up when we get to my place..." 

Bodie glanced at him, and Doyle looked away, out the window and into the dark. He didn't want to see Bodie's face now, not when it was glowing like that, not when it was Christmas and that glow was not for Doyle.

"Ah come on, mate, what's up? We've got the rest of the night off - it's even legit!"

"And what about when it turns out that Kinsella sent us on a wild goose chase, eh? What if Cullen's not at _Angelini's_? Cowley'll kill us if we've lost him for good!"

"Diligent, dutiful Doyle... If Cullen _was_ at _Angelini's_ tonight - which I _doubt_ \- then Kinsella will have tipped him off as soon as we left. You know that as well as I do. He's Jax' grass, not ours, and anyway, Susan had a far better lead than anything Kinsella was going to give us..."

"That's not the point! Cullen's... ah, what's the use?" _Diligent, dutiful Doyle_... He sank down in his seat as they continued to creep forward.

"Look, I'm getting tired of this - you've been a moody bastard for the last... uh..."

_Uh._

"Look, Doyle, about that..."

 _No_.

He didn't want to hear Bodie say it, he didn't need to after all this time, because he knew it was his fault and he shouldn't have done it, and it was probably why they'd been out of synch for the past fortnight, and why Bodie had spent what little spare time they had with Michelle or Karen or Claire or whoever it was, and if they fucked up on the job and got someone killed - if he got Bodie killed - then it would be all his fault.

"Are you at least going to be quiet and let me get some kip? Between you and Cowley and Cullen it's been bloody days since I was asleep in me own bed."

"Asleep?" Bodie asked, risking a glance away from the road, raising an eyebrow.

"Asleep" he said determinedly, and then he leaned forwards, flicked the station to Radio Two, and turned up the radio again. Something blues-y rippled into the car between them, and he stretched out as best he could, turning his head back to the window, where they finally seemed to be moving past entire buildings at a time again, and closed his eyes.

o0o

_Bodie emerged from the bathroom, half wet and clad in only a towel, leaving dark footprints across the carpet and then dripping slightly onto the kitchen tiles as he disappeared from view. Doyle watched him quizzically from the couch for a moment, before finally deciding he'd better see what he wanted._

_In the kitchen, Bodie was slamming cupboards, had bent down to search under the sink. Doyle stood behind him quietly, knowing Bodie'd heard him come in, enjoying the view while he could, while Bodie had no idea. Bodie was all muscled curves, from the stretch of his shoulders, down his back, across flanks and deliciously, temptingly, where the towel had opened to reveal the length of his leg. Good, solid thighs Bodie had, rising to... but the towel hid any more skin from sight, so that Doyle had to be content tracing the shape of his arse under damp white cotton..._

_"Where d'you keep your spare soap?" Bodie finally asked, standing upright again and frowning when he saw Doyle standing there behind him. "It's not in the bathroom, it's not in the kitchen..."_

_"Hall cupboard," Doyle said, wondering how he could tear his eyes away from the single drop of water sliding its slow way down Bodie's neck. To cover, he added, "You've blood on your neck..."_

_"Bonnier got in a lucky swipe."_

_Bonnier had nearly got in more than a lucky swipe, Bonnier'd had Bodie disarmed, with his back to a tree, and a knife to his throat by the time Doyle arrived and shot him dead with a single bullet to his head. Nothing else would have stopped him, not before..._

_Bodie was looking at Doyle now too, a serious look, head slightly ducked, up through his eyelashes, and god but Doyle wanted to kiss those lips. Doyle looked back, knowing he could plead tiredness, knowing that they should both be flaked out by now, would be in twenty minutes after showers and a final cup of tea. If Michelle hadn't been sleeping at Bodie's own flat, they'd have gone their separate ways as soon as they got back to town, and he'd have lain in bed and taken himself in hand, and wanked himself to sleep, imagining Bodie under him, over him, a hundred ways held to him..._

_Bodie stepped forward, and Doyle tensed slightly, prepared to step out of his way in the narrow kitchen, but Bodie stopped, very close to him, and continued to look at him for a moment before taking a deep breath._

_"Thanks mate, for earlier. Perfect timing."_

_Doyle nodded once, his eye caught by the blood again. He shouldn't, he mustn't, he couldn't - but he did, he reached up and he stroked a finger from the curve of Bodie's neck and across his shoulder, to wipe away the blood, just to wipe away the blood, but... His traitorous other hand was reaching out too, was settling at Bodie's waist, where towel met skin, and he was pulling Bodie towards him, and god but he_ mustn't.

_But he did._

_And Bodie, Bodie stood there, and let him. He let his body press against Doyle's body, he let Doyle's hand reach up to his face, let his thumb trace once, so lightly, over his lips, and then he let Doyle kiss him._

_Bodie let the towel fall to the kitchen floor, let it lie there damp and useless, let Doyle's hands smooth away errant water drops._

_He groaned into Doyle's mouth, and his hands settled on Doyle, warm through the cotton of Doyle's shirt, firm and wanting and then insistent, pushing them backwards into the lounge, Doyle feeling the carpet under his bare feet, his eyes closed, his lips on Bodie's lips and his world upside down and singing with the joy of it. Carpet - wooden hallway floor - bedroom carpet... And then they were there._

_Bed._

_Doyle didn't know what he wanted more, to fuck Bodie, or to be fucked by Bodie, he couldn't think, couldn't do anything but know that he was kissing him, and being kissed back, and that he'd never felt anything on him before like Bodie's hands on his skin, never seen anything more beautiful than Bodie's head bending towards his cock, Bodie's lips parting, than when he was taken inside Bodie's mouth, and Bodie's eyes closed and his cheeks hollowed and..._

_He came from just that, knowing that Bodie was swallowing, and that he had shouted out loud, and he was so..._ happy _that he didn't care he'd not lasted long, and he loved that Bodie was nudging him to turn over, which he did, and when he felt Bodie's fingers inside him, moist and plunging and stretching he smiled into the pillow, and moved back against him, so that the fingers vanished, and Bodie's cock was there against his arse instead. It was thicker, much thicker and surely harder, and it stretched him further so that he hissed that pain into the pillow too, but Bodie was saying his name and he couldn't believe that he was hard again already, and yes_ that _was the right angle, and ..._

_Two minutes later, as they lay in a tangle of arms and legs and cocks and heart-pounding, heavy breathing, his R/T went off, and then Bodie's, and fifteen minutes later they were in the car and belting through the darkness towards Hammersmith._

o0o

When next Doyle opened his eyes, there were no lights at all, and he was being tipped from side to side as the car slipped and slid on an icy incline. 

Without saying anything, he gripped the thick plastic handle on the door with one hand, and the side of his seat with the other, and tried to work out what was going on.

Blues had turned into Bach, Bodie was still conscientiously watching the road, and they were still progressing slowly through the darkness, but... 

"Sleeping Beauty awakes," Bodie said, without taking his eyes from their path. In the beam of headlights Doyle saw snow and more snow, and the dark shapes of trees, and nothing else at all. "D'you find this job interferes with your social life?"

"Where the fuck are we, Bodie?"

"Penlee Hill."

"Ah. Why?"

"Because Smithy and Pat..."

"...took our lead after Cullen." He yawned. "I remember. Who is hiding out on Penlee Hill."

"No."

He had to admit that it was more interesting than waking up in another traffic jam, or looking forward to a long Christmas Eve at home alone. Better than wishing he was on duty on Christmas day when he wasn't. But...

Just as he was about to brave the question, Bodie turned from the road they were on to an even narrower lane, spinning tyres briefly against the deeper snow before they caught and plunged still further into the night. The moon was out - in fact the skies seemed to be clear - and then the woods opened suddenly onto soaring plains of pure white, dipping down on one side to reveal a cluster of dark houses at the bottom of the hill, rising still higher on the other. Directly in front of them was another small house - snow-roofed and dark of window.

"Wait here," Bodie said, sliding to a halt in front of the house, and getting out of the car. He disappeared through the front gate and into the shadows, and Doyle heard a vague jangling of keys and then the loud creaking of a door being opened - not the house, he thought, sounded more like a garden shed. Bodie wasn't worried about waking the owners, then, whoever they might be. 

After a moment Bodie reappeared, a large sack over his shoulder, and gestured Doyle out of the car.

Zipping up his jacket, pulling on his gloves, and tightening his scarf around his neck, Doyle obeyed. It was colder even than it had been in London, the sky full of stars in the darkness, even with the moonlight shining palely across them. There'd been frost forecast - Doyle could practically feel it crackling underfoot already. 

"If you're thinking of trying out for Father Christmas you're a bit late..."

Bodie grinned at him. In the middle of nowhere, surrounded by snow and moonlight, Bodie grinned at him. Doyle wondered if he was still asleep.

He raised his eyebrows at the man, and Bodie gestured to a track that led still further uphill. Surreptitiously, Doyle slid the zip down on his jacket again, loosened his weapon in its holster, snug and warm as it was under his arm, and left his jacket undone. Whatever it was, he wasn't sure he liked it...

They hadn't gone far - to the top edge of the field above the house - when Bodie's hand on his shoulder stopped him and Bodie pushed in front and over a styal in the twigged hedge. Doyle followed, then watched as he swung the sack from his shoulder and delved inside.

He pulled out two very large, very battered, tin tea trays, and offered one to Doyle, tilting it so that it shone in the moonlight.

Doyle looked at it, and then he looked up at Bodie, who was grinning again.

"You have never flown, my son, until you've been down this hill on that tray."

It was a dream. He was still dreaming. 

Bodie wouldn't drag him, in the middle of the night, when they should have been chasing down Kinsella and Cullen and gods knew who else, to a freezing field and expect him to slide down it on a tray.

Doyle turned away.

"Ah come on... Ray?"

He stopped, threw back his head so that he could see nothing but the frost-pricked stars, and took a deep breath. It puffed out above him, a white ghost of words unsaid.

"We should be working."

"Not tonight."

"If you've taken us out of R/T range, Cowley'll kill us."

"You shouldn't have answered it."

_Fuck._

"Of course I should, it's our job." 

There was a scrunching of snow, Bodie walking around him to block his way, even though he wasn't going anywhere and then, bizarrely, pushing the tea tray at him again.

"It's like flying. Clears your mind of everything but what's important."

Bloody Bodie.

"Staying on the fucking thing."

Bodie grinned again, and Doyle found himself taking another deep breath and letting it out, and taking the tea tray and turning around again.

"You won't regret this - best thing you'll ever do! _Second_ best thing you'll ever do!"

Doyle chanced a glance at his watch before he chose his path, lowered himself to the ground, made himself comfortable, and grasped the handles of the tray. Two o'clock in the morning - on _Christmas_ morning - and he was going sledding down a hill in the middle of nowhere. Beside him Bodie settled on his own tray, a strangely hunched figure that Doyle didn't know, and then they tipped themselves forward, over the slight lip of the slope, and then they were off. 

There was no sound but for the _shushhh_ of metal on snow as they slowly gathered speed, the cold a sharp pain against his face, his gloved fingers light but firm on the handles, holding on, wanting to steer, knowing he couldn't.

He hadn't been sledding since he was a kid, the world in front of him, not caring which way it went, the ride all that mattered, the sheer speed and dizzying joy of not knowing where it would take him but wanting to _go_. Snow speeding past, lighter and faster than the other kids, daring more, knowing that it could be done and that he was the one who could do it.

His tray hit a rise in the hill, and for just a moment he flew before falling again with a thud that vibrated through his bones, that sent his feet out in front of him so that he lost his seat and twisted around, rolling through the snow until he came to a halt, panting for air, heart pounding, before shaking his head and grinning like a madman. 

He looked up to find Bodie in a similar state, a few feet away.

"Falling off's the best bit," Bodie said, pushing himself to his knees and dusting away the snow. "Come on - one more time."

"One more time?" Doyle repeated, standing on shaky legs, picking up his tray again.

" _Always_ one more time," Bodie grinned, and clapped him on the shoulder. Then he pulled them together, and kissed him, roughly as his balance wavered on the snow, but firmly. "You know I'll be the best thing."

Doyle kissed him back, then took a breath. "Modest bastard," he said. "Yeah, alright then."

 

_December 2008_


End file.
